Everest
Her voice reached him like a rope thrown to a drowning man.
Everest clung to it—not because he could process the words, not really, but because it was her. Because she was the only fixed point in a world that had suddenly shattered into a thousand unfiltered pieces.
His breaths were short, high in his chest, like a bird trapped in a cage. But Isla was counting now—in, hold, out—and even though his mind screamed at the confinement of a pattern, it also needed it. He matched her rhythm, at first shakily, his chest hitching on the second exhale, but then again, a little more evenly.
Still, he didn’t uncurl. Couldn’t.
"Too much," he whispered, voice tight and small against his knees. "Everything’s—too loud—I can’t—my head won’t stop—" His hands clutched at his arms, nails biting in. He swallowed hard, eyes squeezed shut as if the world behind his lids might be more manageable than the one she’d brought him back to.
"You—you said—" The words cracked out of him before he could stop them. But whatever she’d said didn’t matter anymore, because whatever betrayal and assault had followed, he was back to being imprisoned inside of himself once again. The only difference, was that he now knew what was on the other side, and gods but it was so much worse for knowing freedom.
"I would like to go home, please."
Everest clung to it—not because he could process the words, not really, but because it was her. Because she was the only fixed point in a world that had suddenly shattered into a thousand unfiltered pieces.
His breaths were short, high in his chest, like a bird trapped in a cage. But Isla was counting now—in, hold, out—and even though his mind screamed at the confinement of a pattern, it also needed it. He matched her rhythm, at first shakily, his chest hitching on the second exhale, but then again, a little more evenly.
Still, he didn’t uncurl. Couldn’t.
"Too much," he whispered, voice tight and small against his knees. "Everything’s—too loud—I can’t—my head won’t stop—" His hands clutched at his arms, nails biting in. He swallowed hard, eyes squeezed shut as if the world behind his lids might be more manageable than the one she’d brought him back to.
"You—you said—" The words cracked out of him before he could stop them. But whatever she’d said didn’t matter anymore, because whatever betrayal and assault had followed, he was back to being imprisoned inside of himself once again. The only difference, was that he now knew what was on the other side, and gods but it was so much worse for knowing freedom.
"I would like to go home, please."
I wish that I could find the words,
to tell you how much that it hurts
That I'm not who you wanted me to be
to tell you how much that it hurts
That I'm not who you wanted me to be
